Ever After
by pinkdigi
Summary: Every ending is a new beginning, but some wounds aren't meant to heal ..
1. Purgatory

**Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon.**

**Although this story can be read independently, there are two preceding it. I recommend reading neither; I wrote them when I was thirteen (and that should be explanation enough!) I tried to briefly summarize the events of the other two stories in this opening chapter so nobody will be confused.**

**Additional information – **_**One Month**_** took place in July of 2005, and **_**Our Nineteenth Year**_** was set between June and August of 2007. The current date is March of 2011.**

**Chapter One: Purgatory  
**……………………………………………………………

The church was cold. And Kari secretly hated her dress. The colour clashed with the bouquet she was holding. She knew that this was customary – that bridesmaid dresses were supposed to be plain and boring so the bride shone that much brighter. But really, there was no way anyone could outdo Mimi anyway. So did it matter? Did she really have to wear this scrap of clothing that too closely resembled a burlap sac?

She said nothing, of course. She wouldn't let herself say anything negative – or anything at all, for that matter. She didn't want Mimi to lose it more than she already had while planning this whole stupid thing.

To her right, Cindy sniffed and dabbed her eyes. Beside Cindy was Ayumi, Mimi's new roommate at Tokyo University. She didn't know if Ayumi was crying, but she thought she'd rather not know. Ayumi didn't deserve to cry. She hadn't known Mimi all that long. She hadn't been there when it counted. So what reason – what _right_ – did she have to cry?

Kari was kind of angry. Surely two random people like Cindy and Ayumi didn't deserve to be Mimi's bridesmaids too. Kari was one of Mimi's best friends. She had been for the better part of a decade. Could her job in this wedding really only be as important as theirs?

She looked at the empty spot to her left and smiled. Sora. The honourary maid of honour. It was an awkward title, but it was fitting. She felt good standing beside Sora. Even if Sora wasn't really there at all. It really said something, at least to Kari, that she would rather be second to a dead person than be equal to two girls she didn't like.

T.K. caught her eye and winked. She forced herself to smile back. She forced herself to remember that this was Matt and Mimi's wedding – _a happy occasion _– and she wasn't going to be the one to ruin it. She wasn't going to mention Tai and Sora. Not if nobody else did. She wasn't going to be the depressed crying girl who everyone avoided and pitied and whispered about.

She was still staring at T.K. and he was still staring back. For a second, it was as if some invisible link had formed between the two of them and they could feel one another's pain, and so she dropped her gaze. She didn't want that from him.

She glanced back again, not sure of _what_ she wanted from him anymore. He wasn't looking at her, but rather he was staring at his shoes, and she was both desperate for his attention and glad to be rid of it.

Kari watched as Izzy's elbow caught T.K. in the side of the ribs and brought him back to earth. He handed over the rings, and even Kari, a girl with newly-developed, _impeccable_ self-discipline, couldn't make herself watch as Matt and Mimi promised to love each other until death did they part.

They'd postponed this day for so long, and Kari knew that she should be happy for her friends. But she couldn't keep her eyes from welling up when everyone stood and applauded. She blinked away her tears, ashamed, because she wasn't crying for the right reasons.

Tai and Sora would never get a day like this. Was she the only one who cared?

Mimi – with her seven million pounds of makeup and gorgeous dress – leaned forward and kissed Matt. The minute their lips met, and the priest called them Mr. and Mrs. Ishida, they began their new life together.

Kari tried really hard, but she just couldn't find the justice in this. What about Tai and Sora? Hadn't they deserved a life together? Thinking about the two of them made the room spin in the worst way, but she couldn't control it. They were on her mind constantly.

It had been over three and a half years and everyone was doing a lot better. But still, that didn't mean they'd all forgotten, did it?

She looked at T.K., Izzy and Joe. They were all smiling and clapping, as if nothing terrible had ever happened and they had no reason to feel anything other than happiness.

She was doing it too, but it was automatic for her. If it _was _genuine, it was only because of the special circumstances. She didn't usually feel like smiling all that much. A part of her knew that there was probably something wrong with that, but the dominant part of her didn't care. Couldn't care. That was the whole problem.

Mimi took Matt's arm and they led the way out of the church. Kari held onto T.K. as they walked, and when his skin touched hers, it was like a bolt of electricity traveling through her veins.

God, she missed him. He was right there by her side, and if she thought about it, he had always been there. But still, she missed him so much. She missed the way they used to be, before everything had gone wrong.

She kept her eyes on the back of Mimi's head. It was still strange for her to see brown hair, even though it had been years since Mimi's hair had been pink. She'd gone back to her natural colour for the funerals and she'd never ended up switching again. Maybe she'd realized that it was time to own up to the fact that they weren't children anymore, and pink hair wasn't the most sophisticated thing in the world, even on a beautiful girl like Mimi.

It was hard to believe that Tai and Sora had been alive just three and a half years ago. It was hard to remember the lines of her brother's face, the exact colour of Sora's eyes. She inhaled T.K.'s sweet scent; and just like that, she was seventeen again, and the biggest question on her mind was whether or not she was ready to go all the way with her boyfriend.

But then four psychopaths were running through Odaiba High with guns, and Tai was in a coma. Sora was distant and Mimi was angry and T.K. was _there_. Because where else would he be but beside her throughout everything?

The happy sounds of the present faded away and all she could hear was the beeping of Tai's monitors, and then the silence as the nurse turned them off with sad eyes and calm breaths, as if it had happened everyday. And it probably had happened everyday for her. But this was the first person to die who Kari had ever cared about. How was it that the world still spun? How could people halfway across the world go on with their lives in the same way? Didn't they realize that something so unbelievably catastrophic had just happened to her?

T.K. had stayed with her that night, holding her hand, telling her everything would be all right. But her heart wouldn't slow down and her mind was racing just as fast, so a nurse forced her to take a sedative. She fought the whole time, until finally it got the best of her.

It wasn't until she woke up the next morning, when T.K. took his head out of his hands long enough to whisper the awful news, that she found out about Sora.

Kari hadn't thought it was possible to feel that much pain at once. Tai and Sora were_ dead_. It was as if someone had taken a picture of their group and cut them out. Sora had died literally minutes before Tai. Five minutes was all it took to change your life forever.

If the funeral had been hard, the burial had been even worse. Nothing would ever compare to the sight of her brother and one of her best friends being lowered into the cold, hard ground, where they would spent the rest of eternity.

That was the day that Kari decided to stop cutting. It was probably the time she most needed to do it, but she refused to give into the temptation. Sora had killed herself, and while it wasn't from taking a blade and slicing her wrists, it might as well have been. What purpose was cutting serving, anyway? What if she cut too deep and couldn't get help in time? _What_ _then_?

Her parents told her she could take some time off, but Kari went back to school that September. She did her best to keep herself busy. Between homework and cheerleading practices and leading an active social life, Kari's schedule left little time to sit around and feel bad for herself.

T.K. was there through it all. But he wanted too much too fast. He tried to sympathize, but he hadn't lost his brother, so he would never really be able to understand why Kari couldn't just pick herself up and get over it.

T.K. had known Tai and Sora for two years, and although he'd been close with them, it had only been two years. Kari had known Tai since _before _she was born. Her mother once said that just the sound of his voice caused her to kick inside the womb. He was her brother. Her blood. Her protector.

And he was dead? Just like that?

She couldn't deal with it. She couldn't deal with anything. Tai had always been the strong one, not her. And that was too much. How could a person function under the weight of such grief?

Tai had been her hero and her best friend. In many ways, he was the person she was closest to in the entire world. She had loved him since she was first born, from the very moment she saw him. And he was gone. He'd left her. If he could leave her in the worst way, who couldn't? Who wouldn't?

Even T.K. would leave her, eventually. And given how much of a downer she'd been lately, she'd known that it would be sooner rather than later. She'd figured that if they were going to break up, it didn't matter if it was in six months or six days. Why postpone the inevitable? He'd fought it at first, said she was going through a hard time and repeated over and over that they would see this through together. Eventually, he had accepted it and they both knew that it was truly over between them. Their relationship was over in November, so soon after it had begun. It hadn't felt like enough time. She wanted to be with him again so badly, but she wouldn't let herself have him. She wouldn't lower the walls she had built up around herself. She couldn't afford to hurt that much a second time. She knew that it would literally kill her to lose T.K. and she had found the best way to protect herself.

So they stayed friends – best friends – and even when times got serious and he brought up the subject of their relationship, she remained constant. _They were meant to be friends and nothing more_. She resisted. She told herself she didn't miss the Friday night dates, the way he carried her books as he walked her to class. She convinced herself that she didn't care about how practically every other girl at their school was dying for a chance with him. She didn't let it bother her when he actually went out with a few of them. And she pretended that she wasn't overwhelmingly pleased when he stopped seeing a girl after only one or two dates.

Sometimes, she stopped to wonder what Tai would think if he was watching her. She wondered if he would think that she was throwing everything away. But she was being silly. He was dead. And her heart broke for him.

When Kari graduated, Tai wasn't there to see it. He didn't sit with his parents the way she had when it had been his turn.

He hadn't been there to congratulate her when she got accepted to her top three University choices. He hadn't been there to fight with her when she settled for going to Tokyo University so she could stay close to the rest of her friends.

She knew that she should have gone away. She had been dreaming of going to America for school since she was young. But Japan was home. And she needed her home. Tokyo University – and the people going there – were her last connection to her brother.

Tai missed her eighteenth, nineteenth, and twentieth birthdays. Her twenty-first had been five weeks ago. Sometimes, she liked to close her eyes and pretend that Tai was still alive. She tried to imagine what they would be doing at that exact second. But it was Tai who'd gotten the imagination in their family, so she didn't get too far with her daydreams.

She learned a long time ago that life didn't always work out the way anyone wanted.

……………………………………………………………

T.K. straightened his tie and glanced at Kari. She was only on her third drink and T.K. was pretty surprised. It wasn't in good taste to get utterly wasted at a friend's wedding, but it was Kari's taste to get utterly wasted almost _anywhere_.

He, on the other hand, knew to stay away from almost all forms of alcohol. The last time he'd had too much to drink had been at senior prom, and the night ended when Kari ditched her date to take him to her parents' house, where he spent the rest of the night throwing up in their bathroom. He grinned at the memory. Maybe he was crazy, but there was something he really liked about Kari leaving her date to take care of him, her ex-boyfriend.

She'd been acting strange since the ceremony. Actually, the truth was that Kari had been acting strange for years now. But he was so used to it that he no longer flinched at most of the things she did.

She laughed at something he said, leaning into him the way she always did. For a minute she was the old Kari again, the one he'd fallen so hopelessly in love with so many years ago.

He blinked and that Kari was gone. He wondered if he would ever see her again, how long it would take. Sometimes, he felt certain that he could wait forever if he had to. And other times, he promised that he wouldn't do that to himself.

"Remember the first time we met?" she asked.

"How could I forget?" he said. His throat felt a little thicker when he thought back to the surprise party they'd held for Sora. They'd only been fifteen, and even then, he'd known that she would affect him in a way that nobody else could ever manage to. "Why do you ask?"

She shrugged. "Just thinking back. It was so long ago."

"Yeah," he said. "I know."

"Everything is crap now," she declared. "Compared to then." He couldn't help but laugh at her bluntness.

"A little bit," he admitted. But if it really was _crap_, it was only because Kari refused to let herself be happy. With him. He watched her sigh and lean forward in her seat. "What are you thinking about?"

She shrugged. "Do you think," she asked, and her voice was soft around the edges in that way it always was when she started talking about _them_, "that Tai and Sora would've gotten married? If they hadn't died?"

His chest constricted. She often wondered aloud about Tai and Sora, and what life could have been for them, but it didn't get easier for T.K. to hear. "Yeah," he said. "I do."

He hated her in that moment. Why did she need to bring it up? This was his brother's wedding. This was supposed to be a happy occasion. God knew they could use a night like this. Was she really going to be a downer and ruin everything?

"So do I," she said, and then looked away.

He wanted to get up and walk away. He wanted to leave this awful conversation – and _her ­_– behind. He didn't, though. And he honestly could not understand why that was.

"Kar?"

"I'm fine," she said, and he knew it was the biggest lie.

"No, you're not," he said. _I try, but I can hardly remember back to the times that you were_, he finished silently.

"I miss them," she mumbled. "They would've had so much fun tonight. I wish they could be here."

"They _are _here," T.K. said, but sometimes he wasn't so sure he believed that. She sniffed. "Hey," he said, reaching out and cupping her face in his hands. "Don't do this."

"Do you want to dance?" she asked, but she was already pulling him onto the dance floor, so he didn't have much choice either way.

He dropped the discussion, and Tai and Sora spent the rest of the night hanging over both of their heads. Maybe this was the biggest problem of all. If he hadn't spent the last three years letting her change the subject whenever it got tough to talk about – if he had forced her to get all of her feelings out way back when – then maybe things would be okay between them now. Maybe things wouldn't feel so horribly unfinished. He would never know for sure, and while a part of him wanted to find out, a larger part of him was too afraid of hurting her.

He said nothing. He ignored the feeling in his stomach as she situated herself in his arms. Her head was against his chest, and even though her heels made her taller and her head didn't quite rest where it normally did, he felt sure that this was where she was supposed to be.

"If none of this ever happened, and we hadn't broken up, do you think – do you think we'd still be together?" she asked. "Do you think _we_ would've eventually gotten married?"

They had one rule – a rule Kari had implemented – that said they weren't allowed to discuss any aspect of their previous romantic relationship. And every time he'd tried to sidestep it, Kari had enforced it wholeheartedly. So how come it was okay to talk about it now that she had a few drinks in her and was feeling nostalgic?

He said, "It would be breaking our rule for me to answer that."

"Fuck the rule," she whispered. "I'm not saying that we should run off and get hitched … I'm not even saying we should get back together. I'm just asking if you would've maybe ever considered married me. It's a simple question."

He stared at her, not sure what to say. If he told her _yes_ – admitted that when they'd been together and he'd imagined his future, she had always been front and center – it would hurt too much. But he couldn't say no. He _couldn't_ lie.

"Never mind," she mumbled, looking down.

"Yes," he said sincerely, a second too late.

She looked at him and he felt it, the same awful way he'd felt it at the church.

He had to look away. It was too hard to stay like this. He loved her, but she fucked him around so much. And he wasn't sure he could take it for much longer. He would have walked away ages ago if it had been anyone else. But it was _Kari_. He couldn't make himself forget her.

"I need another drink," she mumbled, then moved away from him and made a beeline to the bar.

As she walked away, he thought vaguely that if she never came back, it would be both the best and worst thing that could ever happen to him.

He loved her too much. Sometimes, he couldn't even _breathe_. She was everything to him. For every time she did something shitty to hurt him, there were a million times that she'd done something amazing. It had been years, and yet he couldn't forget the girl she used to be. Sometimes, he'd get fed up and tell himself she was never going to change. It was always then that she'd do something to give him hope.

Maybe she wasn't the girl she used to be, but there were times that he laid in bed at night and could remember exactly what that girl had been like. And he knew that as long as he could remember, he would never be able to give up on the hope that she could come back.

Kari didn't return, so he walked over to the bar and found her talking to a guy he'd never met. She was laughing and moving around in her seat the way she normally did when she'd had too many drinks, and the stranger had his hand on her knee. T.K. felt rage flare up inside of him, but his hands were tied. He wanted to bash this guy's face in. Hitting on Kari when she was drunk was wrong. _Looking at Kari_ was wrong. She was T.K.'s, and random guys weren't allowed to flirt with her because they thought she was pretty or nice or even loose.

But he could do nothing, because Kari wasn't his anymore, and there were too many people who would gladly kill him for ruining Matt and Mimi's wedding reception – especially Mimi.

"T.K., over here!" Kari exclaimed, waving him over.

He went over to her, and maybe it was him who acted first, but either way, they both leaned in. His lips crushed against hers and she didn't pull away. Maybe there was no going back to the way things had been, and maybe this moment was as far as things could go for them, but this random guy didn't know that. And for right now, that was all T.K. cared about.

Kari put her arms around his neck, and even though her body was flush against his, there was something between them. There would always be something between them.

……………………………………………………………

**I've had this chapter written for ages now. I was hoping to get a decent amount of this story written before I began posting, but every time I sit down to write another chapter, I just end up tweaking and re-writing this one. (This chapter **_**should be perfect **_**by now, but clearly is far from.) Posting this is basically just to force me to get the second one going, and I really can't promise that you will see its finished product any time soon.**

**This story is really difficult to write for a long list of reasons. Updates will come when they come. That being said, I have no idea what I want to do with this story. I'm really afraid of rushing it, or even dragging it out. Many of you have been waiting **_**years**_** for this, so I really don't want to disappoint.**

**Review! Suggestions are welcomed & encouraged.**


	2. Denial

**Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon.**

**Chapter Two: Denial  
**……………………………………………………………

She was seven, maybe eight. The sun was high in the sky, and the water was beautiful as she looked at it over the side of the boat.

"Meems, come check this out!"

It didn't matter that she had been summoned; she would have run toward that voice either way. In her haste, she failed to see the water on the deck, and only just got her hands out in time to brace herself.

She fell hard. Her hands were pale against the dark carpet, and she didn't understand what part of the boat would be carpeted.

The sound of familiar laughter roused her from her thoughts. She looked around the bedroom and felt dizzy. "You fell off the bed!" her friend announced between giggles. "You're _such _a ditz!"

She looked down at herself. Her limbs were slim and pale, and her breasts were much smaller. She was thirteen at most. She glanced up at the top bunk, where the hidden voice was coming from. She leapt to her feet and got onto the ladder.

It was more of a climb than she'd expected. She got to the top and it wasn't a bed, it was a waterslide. Her hair was pink and she could recognize the age of sixteen simply by the tingling in her fingertips. She squinted against the sunlight and glanced down into the pool, where the shadow of a person moved underneath the surface of the water. _Sora_.

She went down the slide and broke through the surface of the water, sinking down until her feet connected with the bottom of the pool. She pushed off hard and was propelled upward.

She was flying through the air, dry as a bone, gasping for breath. All she could see was sky. She felt herself start to come back down and braced herself for the impact, but she hit something springy and flew back into the air.

The sun seemed to have just set and the cool air gave her goose bumps on the back of her neck. People were everywhere, drinking and laughing together in the backyard. She wanted to get off the trampoline, but could not seem to communicate this to the two strangers sharing it with her, and so they continued to jump, sending her back up into the air each time she landed.

A familiar shape moved across the opposite end of the backyard. Mimi had to get to her. She put all of her force into the jump and landed on the grass, far less gracefully than she'd hoped.

And then Sora – beautiful, alive, nineteen-year-old Sora – was right there, standing on the grass looking down at her. She made a movement, and Mimi expected her to reach out a hand to help Mimi up off her butt. But instead, she took her own seat on the grass. Mimi stared; she had no voice. She waved her hand in front of Sora's face, and her friend looked amused.

"You okay?"

Sora's mouth moved but it was Matt's voice, and then Mimi found herself sitting up in the bed of their honeymoon suite, gasping for breath and desperate to hold onto her fading dream.

……………………………………………………………

The first thing Kari noticed was that her pillow smelled like T.K. She opened her eyes and saw him lying beside her, and for one endless, broken moment, she was seventeen.

She looked around T.K.'s dorm room, lost in the unfamiliar before everything came rushing back to her. She jolted upright, feeling as though she had been sucker punched; if this caused T.K. to stir, he gave no indication.

She stared at him for a moment, or perhaps it was an hour. The previous night came back to her in pieces, and she felt her cheeks colour. Had she really behaved that way in front of everyone at the reception? Had her parents seen her leave with T.K.? Should she try to sneak out before he awoke, or would that only make the situation worse?

It was unsurprising, really, that she found herself in bed with him now. They were broken up, and had been for quite some time, but there was a difference between being single and being available. T.K. was certainly not the latter, and if she was honest with herself, neither was she.

Her eyes ran over him, and for the millionth time they came to rest on the tiny mark on his left shoulder. It looked like someone had put a cigar out on his skin. She wondered how many people had seen it and thought to inquire. She wondered what T.K. told them when they did – if he explained the shooting, the terror, his selfless act; or if he merely gave a shifty smile, cracked a stupid joke, and changed the subject.

He shifted and opened one eye, his face breaking out into a grin when he saw her. "Holy shit," he said, dragging out each syllable. He rubbed a hand over his face and sat up, looking as though he wanted to speak but was unsure of what he could possibly say. Her heart sank, unsure of what he thought last night would mean for them.

"What do you tell them?" she asked quietly.

"Huh?"

Her fingers brushed against his arm. Perhaps the skin was still sensitive, or perhaps he was just overly aware of the mark, but the smile disappeared from his face either way. "When people ask … and I'm sure _someone_ has asked … what do you say?"

"It's not like many people have seen it," he said with an uneasy smile. "I mean, when was the last time I woke up beside a girl?"

Kari didn't know the answer to that. She thought she might like to know, actually, but she also had an overwhelming desire to protect herself from information that would surely keep her up at night.

"A few guys from the basketball team have asked, but I avoid answering and I think they've gotten the hint that I'm not up for talking about it," he continued. "I was hanging out in Matt's room one day and Kenta asked me about it. I wasn't going to answer but then Matt told him I had been shot … it was really awkward. He tried to make a joke about it, told me I should use it as a pick-up line."

Kari faked a smile. She tried to be open-minded about Kenta, Matt's roommate for his remaining three years at university, but she found it impossible to like the boy who had replaced her brother.

Kenta knew, of course. He had to. It took a special kind of idiot to miss the way Kari bit the inside of her cheek every time he spoke, or the way she could barely look at him, or how she'd always made certain that he wasn't around before stopping by Matt's room.

He was one of the few people not from Odaiba who knew about what happened to Tai and Sora. When Kari met new people and they asked about her family, she claimed to be an only child. When they heard she lived in Odaiba and they asked about the shootings, she said she'd gone to a high school on the opposite end of town.

It tore her apart to lie about Tai, to pretend that all the lazy Saturday mornings they had spent watching cartoons as children had not occurred. But it was easier than telling the truth. She wouldn't be able to deal with questions, uncomfortable looks, or sympathy from people she hardly knew. She was not the only person who played this game. T.K., as far as she knew, had never told any of their new friends about that day and his involvement in it. And Mimi did not speak about it at all, not even to those who had lived through it with her.

"It's not my place," T.K. said softly. "If I tell people even the smallest detail about it … then it gets traced back to you, too. And I don't want anyone ever bothering you, asking questions as if they have a right to know what happened and who it happened to."

Kari did not have the words to express how much she truly appreciated T.K., for this and for so many other things. He gave her a reassuring smile and she felt her heart jump into her throat. He really was the best person in her life.

_Stop_, she told herself. She dug her nails into her wrist and tried to calm herself. _What are you doing_? _Don't start thinking like that again_ …

She knew what it was to miss someone. Every now and then, she felt homesick for Odaiba – for her parents, for her cat, and for the view from her bedroom window. She missed Tai every moment of every day.

And yet, looking at T.K. now, she was overwhelmed by how easy it was to miss someone who had never left.

……………………………………………………………

Mimi settled back against the bed and Matt shut his eyes again, too exhausted to realize what was happening to her. She pressed her shaking hands against her forehead and took a deep, steadying breath. How could she expect anyone else to understand her when she couldn't understand herself? It had been more than three years since Sora's death. She was married to a wonderful man and had a terrific group of family and friends. She should be better by now. She should be normal.

But she couldn't balance out her desire to go on with the guilt she had for _being_ _able_ to go on when Sora could not. What kind of grief, what kind of immeasurable sadness could Sora have been feeling? Her best friend had been falling apart at the seams and Mimi hadn't even noticed. She had concerned herself with her new engagement, and she had certainly concerned herself with everything going on with Tai, but how could she have forgotten Sora? If she had been there, if she had just been a proper best friend …

Mimi drew in a breath. She had touched on the very thought that had been lurking around in her mind for years but which she had never previously allowed to bubble to the surface. She pulled it from her mind, dusted it off, held it up high and examined it in the light. It was time to face the truth, and what the truth came down to was this: if Mimi had not failed Sora in so many different ways, Sora would still continue to be.

It would be foolish of her to say there had not been signs. Sora had called Mimi the night before she died, and their conversation had been anything but regular girl talk. She'd been so pessimistic, so unlike the girl Mimi had always known. And then she'd said something that really should have set off even a small alarm: _I know you might be a little confused, but I need you to listen really carefully_. _This is important_. Had Sora been trying to tell her something with that speech? Hint at something? What if she had been counting on Mimi to pick up on it and talk her out of it, and when Mimi failed to notice, Sora resigned herself to going through with her suicide?

She was grasping. She knew she was grasping. Most people in her situation would never have been able to guess what was about to happen. She knew that there were normally warning signs, and she was sure if she went back in time and kept an eye out that she would be able to pick up on them. The things Sora had said on the phone that night seemed confusing and almost meaningless. Mimi hadn't understood then what she understood now. But the old saying that _hindsight is twenty-twenty_ existed for reason.

There was nothing like getting that phone call saying her best friend, one of the only people she needed – actually, physically _needed_ – was gone forever, in a way that nobody could really, truly understand. Nothing in the world could ever rival that feeling of absolute destruction, of the knowledge that she could live forever and would never have another friendship like the one she'd had with Sora.

So many people in the world were grieving over the loss of a loved one just as Mimi was and would always continue to do, but there was a difference. Most of those people were victims of situations which could not have been avoided. And then there was Mimi, whose best friend had made one drastic, spontaneous (at least she hoped that was the case, because she couldn't stand the thought of Sora thinking about and planning it for a period of time) decision which had shaken Mimi's life to the core. If Sora had never done what she'd done …

Thinking about this evoked so many emotions, and Mimi was constantly struggling to keep them all at bay. But Mimi had never felt hate; she could not hate Sora for this reason or for any other. Anyone else and it would have been easy to curse them and be furious. Thinking of what Sora had done did not make Mimi angry. Hating Sora was impossible no matter what way she looked at it. Besides, Sora was not to blame for what she had done. Mimi should have looked out for her friend. The idea of hating Sora for something that was not her fault, something that was more Mimi's own fault, made her sad.

She knew that blaming herself was normal, that everyone in this situation did it at one time or another. But she wondered how many people were as justified as she was. She wanted so much to believe that Sora would be with her forever, that the memories they'd shared would last her a lifetime. But if Sora was such a part of her, and always would be, why did she feel so empty? Why did she feel so alone?

Matt turned on the lamp and sat up. "You're upset."

"I'm not."

"Mimi …"

"I'm happy, okay? We got married. Why wouldn't I be happy?"

Matt sighed and rubbed a hand over his eyes. "Why won't you just talk to me about it?"

_It_. Sora's death was something so awful, so unspeakable, that she did not understand how he could refer to the event in the same manner he would a television show.

"You don't understand," she told him. She just wanted him to leave her alone.

Matt spoke so quietly that she almost didn't hear him: "You weren't the only one who lost a best friend."

She turned to look at him, both embarrassed and angered by his words. "It's not the same thing," she said softly, aware that she was minimizing his grief and unable to stop herself.

"Your best friend died," he said, so plainly that Mimi felt herself flinch. "So did mine."

"_It's not the same_ _thing_," she repeated through clenched teeth.

"How do you figure?"

"Because Tai wasn't the first friend you made at school," she said, and hated the sound of her voice but was spurred on by the knowledge that she was at least a little right. "He wasn't the one who helped you blow out your birthday candles every year. He wasn't the one whose tree house you hid in when you ran away from home." She had to close her eyes against the memories. She could lose hours to them if she wasn't careful. "You can think of a million important moments in your life that didn't include him. You can open up photo albums and not see his face in every picture. I can't do that. That isn't me."

Her vision blurred against unshed tears and she blinked them away. She had not cried over Sora in years and tonight would be no different. Instead, she stared hard at a ring on her right hand. It had been Sora's; Mrs. Takenouchi had given it to Mimi after the funeral. She absently twisted it around her finger and didn't realize that Matt had put on his shoes and left.

……………………………………………………………

T.K. swallowed hard and tried to see past the lost look in Kari's eyes. He could see what was coming; it was a familiar cycle. Kari would seem fine and well-adjusted for months at a time, and out of nowhere would retreat into herself for days or even weeks. Once she had collected herself again, she would start over and say nothing to T.K. or anyone else about her behaviour. This both annoyed and worried him. He was unsure of whether he had a right to feel either of those emotions, but was unable to control himself.

He remembered the first time he had ever truly considered death. A classmate in the fourth grade had lost his father, and after a week of mourning, had returned to school. T.K. had been shocked by this – if he had ever lost someone close to him, the loss would be devastating and surely he would never recover. The idea of losing Matt, of attending his brother's funeral and watching his coffin being lowered into the ground, seemed unfathomable. T.K. had not thought anyone would be able to return to their normal lives within a week, or several weeks, or even several months.

Then Tai and Sora died. They had not been blood relatives, but T.K. had considered them family for every moment he'd known them. He'd spent the first few days after their death living in a fog. The funeral had been hell. The two weeks following it had been hell. Then school came around, and although he was still relatively distraught, he realized that he could not crawl into a hole and stay there. He went to school, and between friends and basketball and class, he found that he did not think of Tai and Sora quite as often. He found that he could laugh again, and that it became easier every day. His relationship with Kari had begun to fall apart, and T.K. could never be sure, but he suspected part of the reason was because he had succeeded where Kari had not.

There were times he felt just as sad as she did. There were moments where he could close his eyes and _be there_, back to the days that had almost ruined everything for all of them. But they were few and far between. He loved Tai and Sora and he would miss them forever, but he was not going to mess up his life just because of what had happened to theirs. They wouldn't want that. How could he explain to Kari that the only part of the past that he couldn't let go of was her? And that he was healed when it came to all the other stuff? How could he make her see that he was just as messed up as she in his own right, but he was getting better everyday and he didn't feel guilty about that? He was getting better because he wanted to, because he knew it was what Tai and Sora would want for him. Kari could not seem to understand that healing was not the same thing as forgetting.

As if she was reading his mind and felt uncomfortable with his thoughts, she said, "I should probably go." She got out of bed, taking one of the sheets with her, and disappeared into the bathroom. For the first time since waking, T.K. remembered their situation.

"Oh," said T.K. "Did you – do you think we should talk?"

Kari returned a moment later in the dress she'd worn to the wedding reception. "Talk about what?"

Her question was so random, the confusion so genuine, that his voice caught in his throat. They just woke up together and she didn't think it was worthy of discussion?

"Nothing," he said. He hated himself in that moment, and wondered for the millionth time if he would ever be able to stand up to her. "Do you want me to walk you to your room?"

Kari shrugged. "No thanks. I'm fine."

She shut the door behind herself and T.K. sighed. "You are _anything_ but fine, Kari," he said to himself.

……………………………………………………………

**Review.**


	3. Grief

**Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon.**

**Chapter Three: Grief  
**……………………………………………………………

"So I was thinking," Matt said, striking a match. "We should try that restaurant in the brochure tonight. You know, the one right out on the beach?"

Mimi wasn't listening. She watched as Matt lit three candles and swallowed hard against the lump forming in her throat.

She couldn't escape Sora. Lately, she couldn't go anywhere or do anything without a memory of her best friend blindsiding her. Despite what most people thought, Mimi was not bothered when someone accidentally said Sora's name around her or when she ran into Mrs. Takenouchi at the mall. What hurt Mimi most were the random things, triggering memories she had forgotten until suddenly there they were, cropping up in her mind's eye: hopscotch, karaoke, fireworks, grapefruit.

No matter how badly Mimi's head hurt, she couldn't take Tylenol or any other pill. She hated going to hospitals. She couldn't go to the right wing of the Odaiba shopping mall, where the photo booth was. Opening her wallet and seeing that picture – the one of her and Sora that she'd kept for nearly a decade – got to be so difficult that she wound up taking it out a few weeks after the funeral.

She couldn't be alone in her bedroom with the door locked. If she looked at her watch and it said ten o'clock, she had to remind herself to breathe. She gave all of her bunny stuffed animals to her baby cousin. The first time Sora's birthday had come around, Mimi imagined how she would've wanted to spend it and took Kari out instead. But it hadn't been the same, and Kari was a great girl but she would never be Sora, so Mimi spent every birthday since then alone at the cemetery.

Mimi stared unblinkingly at the candle. Matt was trying to get her attention, but she was lost. She got that familiar choke of panic and remembered —

_Mimi wakes up to the radio and hears the weather report for Sunday, August seventh. _Sunny_, the voice says, _warm. Get out your suntan lotion and hit the beach._ Mimi smiles. She and Sora made up two nights ago, and when Mimi called her yesterday, she was pleasant and seemed like her old self. She said she had a lot of stuff to take care of yesterday, so Mimi told her they'd get together today, the seventh, instead. She is positive that the winds of change are upon them – their amends is only the beginning, and good things are still to come. Tai will wake up soon and everything will be okay. Mimi can feel it._

_She showers and when it is time to get dressed, she picks out a nice outfit that she has just purchased and hasn't worn yet. She grabs a light breakfast. She checks the clock and makes a mental note to call Sora in an hour. In the mean time, she begins to map out the day in her head. They'll go to lunch at their favourite restaurant, get some shopping done, maybe catch a movie. Perhaps they'll go to the beach, or instead just stay poolside in Sora's backyard._

_Mimi goes into her room and begins to flat iron her hair. The phone in her room, the private line that nobody else in the house has access to, is ringing. She sets the iron down on her vanity dresser and answers the call. _

Hey,_ she says, sure that it's Sora._

_The voice on the other line is unfamiliar and hesitant. _Is this Mimi Tachikawa?

_The phone is cold against her sweaty palm. Something turns in her stomach. And she has never felt like this before._

Yes. Who is this?_ she grinds out. Why can't she speak?_

Is this a good time to talk? _the unfamiliar woman asks. _I'm calling on the behalf of Toshiko Takenouchi.

_Sora's mom. What's going on?_

What is this about?_ Mimi asks_.

_A part of her mind realizes that the only reason Mrs. Takenouchi would have a friend call her, and why that friend would sound so distraught, is because something has happened to Sora. But there is another, larger, more insistent part of her mind that refuses to even consider this. And so she is unprepared for the way this conversation will go._

I'm afraid –

_There is a sharp knock at Mimi's bedroom door._

Sorry, can you hold on for a second?_ she asks. She sits the phone down without waiting for an answer. She goes to the door, her hand wrapping around the cool metal doorknob and pausing there for a moment. Her heart is racing and she doesn't understand why._

_The door opens and Matt is there, looking as though he hasn't slept in a week. His head is down and his clothes seem to hang off him in a different way. His shoulders are sagged and he looks _… _defeated._

Matt_, she says, hoping she's got this all wrong_. What are you doing here?

You – haven't you heard?_ he says, his eyes meeting hers for the first time. Her eyes sting with unshed tears and she doesn't know why, but it must be something awful because she has never seen Matt look like this and cannot imagine what could do this to him._

No. What –?

It's Tai_, he says simply, and Mimi knows what that means. Tai is dead._

When?

Last night.

_An awful sobbing sound cuts through the silence, and she doesn't even register that it is coming from her. She doesn't know how to react to this. She rarely allowed herself to imagine a scenario in which Tai was dead, and when she did, she had only considered it in practical terms. What she would say to Sora and Matt and Kari; what she would wear to the funeral; what kind of flowers she would bring to his grave. She hadn't allowed herself to consider the devastation this would bring her, the complete emptiness settling deep down in the pit of her stomach._

_She puts her arms around Matt and he grips her tightly, burying his face in her neck and whimpering in a way he will never admit to later. Tai was his best friend, and Mimi knows that he must be so destroyed. If she ever lost her best friend, she'd probably never recover. Tai wasn't her best friend, but he was one of the closest friends she will ever have. He was one of the best people she will probably ever meet. Mimi loved him as if he were her brother. He had been in rough shape but could he really be dead? And is she honestly already thinking about him in past tense?_

_There's nothing she can say. What does she tell Matt? She can't say she's sorry. That doesn't feel right. Sorry doesn't even begin to describe what she feels. _

_She will never get to hear Tai tell one of his jokes again. Or watch him play soccer and act unbearable cocky when he annihilates Matt. She'll never get to hang out with him or go on double dates with him and Sora. They haven't really done any of those things lately, but there was always the chance that they could again, someday. And now, there is no someday._

_Really? He's really dead? _

_Her heart is beating at an alarming rate now and even with Matt in her arms, all she can think is_:_ Sora_.

_Her mother is still on the phone. Is this what she's calling about? Did Mrs. Kamiya call Sora, tell her what happened, and now Sora's gone off the deep end and her mother needs Mimi to come help?_

_She knows that's not it. She can feel it in her bones, just as she could growing up when something was wrong with Sora._

Sora's m-mom is on the phone,_ Mimi whispers to Matt. _Hold on for a second._ Her vision is blurred and she doesn't think she'd be able to do it under any other circumstance, but she lets go of Matt and goes back to her phone. _I'm here,_ she says. Mimi hopes it doesn't sound like she is crying, even though she is._

Mrs. Takenouchi would like to speak to you. I'm putting her on,_ the voice says. _

Mimi?_ It doesn't sound like Sora's mom. Not really._

Mrs. Takenouchi? Are you okay?_ Mimi asks. She knew that Mrs. Takenouchi had been close with Tai, had loved him like a son. But something else is going on here, something Mimi doesn't know about and isn't sure she wants to know about. _Is this about T-Tai?

It's about Sora,_ Mrs Takenouchi says, and she's crying so fiercely that Mimi suddenly knows what this means. Somewhere inside, she knows. She's known since she woke up. But the part of her that knows and the part of her that realizes what she knows are two separate things, and the connection can't be made. Not if it's about Sora, her best friend in the world, the girl who has been by her side since they were three._

What is it?_ Mimi asks, because nothing is real until she hears it from the mouth of Sora's mother._

Sora's gone.

_Mimi understands what that means. She understands that saying someone is gone, that someone has passed away, is really just a better way of saying that they will never laugh or cry or breathe or love again._

_But the word gone can't apply to Sora. Tai is gone because he was sick and injured. Sora is neither of those things. Sora has nothing wrong with her, and so she can't be gone._

What?_ Mimi says blankly. She can hear Mrs. Takenouchi sobbing on the other end, and then there is a rustling noise as the phone is transferred to someone else._

I'm afraid,_ the stranger says gently, _that Sora is no longer with us.

No, _she says. _That's – you're wrong.

Mimi –

Don't say my name_, she snaps. _Don't call me saying ridiculous, untrue shit. Don't say my name as if you're telling the truth and I'm acting irrational.

She passed away last night, Mimi.

You're lying,_ Mimi hears herself say, but it doesn't really sound like her voice. _You're a liar. You're a sick fuck, and if I ever find out who you are …

_This isn't true. It can't be. Her best friend isn't dead. She talked to Sora yesterday. She has talked to Sora practically every fucking day of her entire life, and this kind of thing doesn't happen to friends like them. To people like them. People don't just call their friends one day and make plans and then turn up dead the next._

Dear, I know that you must be –

You don't know anything!_ she screams._

She – she seems to have taken her own life.

_Sora took her own life? This person is crazy. Sora wouldn't do that … couldn't do that._

You've got the wrong girl,_ Mimi says stubbornly. She doesn't care that Mrs. Takenouchi was just on the phone, trying to tell her this herself. She doesn't care that she only knows one Sora – her best friend, the girl she's known since her first day of school and has shared everything with – and that there couldn't really be any mistake. _She wouldn't do this. I'm her best friend and I know her and I know that she would never do this.

_There's only one way she can know. There's only one way she can be sure. _

Put Mrs. Takenouchi back on the line!_ Her hand is shaking so fiercely that she has to use both to keep it steady, and her palms are so sweaty that it's practically sliding out of her grip. _I want to speak to her! I need to hear it from her!

_Matt stands up and looks anxiously at Mimi. _

I'm so sorry for your loss,_ the voice says._

Shut up and give her the phone!

Mimi,_ Mrs. Takenouchi says weakly. Mimi can barely hear her._

It's not true,_ Mimi says, but she can feel tears dripping down her face and she knows that it is, that it has to be. _It's not true. Sora isn't dead. She didn't – she did not kill herself. It's not true.

_Matt looks taken aback and comes over to Mimi. He's mouthing something, asking a million questions at once, but she turns away. She can't look at him. He doesn't even exist. The only person in the world who exists is Sora's mother, the one with the answers. Mimi can't breathe. Sora isn't dead. She's at her house, getting ready right now. Because she and Mimi have places to go and things to do today._

Tell me it's not true, _Mimi begs, and she has never wanted anything more in her entire life._

_Mrs. Takenouchi takes a deep, shaky breath. _She – she took p-pills and –

_Mimi will never know how the rest of Mrs. Takenouchi's sentence goes, because that is the moment everything stops. She can't live without Sora. Not when their lives have been so closely intertwined for so long. Sora's chapter is over, but what the fuck is Mimi going to do? Didn't Sora stop and think about that? Didn't she care? Mimi was her best friend! You didn't die and leave your best friend alone to face the world. You were supposed to stick it out together. You were a team. You were supposed to be, anyway._

_She slides to the floor, the phone still in her hand. The cord tugs and the phone rips out of her wall and smashes on the floor._

_Sora is dead. Sora is dead. Sora is dead. Sora is dead. Sora is dead. _

_It repeats in her mind over and over and over. In her head, Mimi can only see her. Mimi's tears will only fall for her. Mimi's heart can only ache for her. Mimi's wounds can only bleed for her._

_(Sora is dead.)_

_Mimi will never see her again. _

_Sora will never smile. She'll never laugh or cry or talk or complain or scream or sing._

_(Sora is dead.)_

_Mimi will never again spend hot summer days in her pool. Sora will never come over for a movie night, like they used to have every weekend when they were young._

_(Sora is dead.)_

_Her flat iron is still on her dresser, up against a pile of papers and a magazine. It catches on fire and the flickering flame is orange and bright, just like Sora's hair used to be. It's alive, just like Sora used to be. Mimi doesn't move._

_(Sora is dead.)_

_Matt takes care of the fire. Or perhaps Mimi's mother does. Or maybe the entire Odaiba fire department comes into her bedroom to put it out. She doesn't know. She doesn't care._

_There is no tomorrow. There is no yesterday. _

_(Sora is dead.)_

_There is just this moment – this moment that seems to hang and stretch for an eternity – and there is just this pain – this pain that will not fade or ease up, no matter how many years Mimi waits._

_(Sora is dead.) —_

"Mimi?" Matt called, his voice finally cutting through her thoughts.

Her eyes were starting to water, so she looked away from him. "Huh? Sorry, I wasn't paying attention," she said, smiling unconvincingly.

"No problem," he said stiffly, knowing better than to say anything else. They'd already had one fight since their honeymoon began, and the hurt feelings still weren't entirely gone. He didn't want to get into it again now. "Are you hungry? We can go check out that restaurant in the brochure … or we can get room service if you want."

"No. I don't feel like eating right now."

She went into the bathroom to collect herself. When she came out, the candles were gone.

……………………………………………………………

Something wet and cold touched Kari's face. She wiggled away from it and opened her eyes. Meeko, her cat, was standing on her chest looking very amused. Kari looked up and saw the ceiling of her parents' living room. She questioned why she was flat on her back at the bottom of her stairs with a throbbing head, and remembered her fall.

There was always one spot in the house that Meeko had marked as her territory. In Kari's old house, it had been on top of the refrigerator. This had been fine with Kari, as she had no particularly need for that space. However, when the Kamiyas moved into their current house, Meeko's new spot had become the third step from the top of their staircase. This was surely inconvenient, but Kari had never once forgotten this and tripped in a last minute attempt to not crush her pet.

Today, Kari forgot.

Perhaps it was because she hadn't been home in so long – schoolwork had really piled up lately and she wasn't able to make it home as frequently as in past years – but for whatever reason, she was completely out of routine and came dangerously close to crushing Meeko. Instead, Kari threw herself forward and the change in momentum resulted in her tumbling down all remaining thirteen steps.

She must've passed out. Moving Meeko off of her chest, she went to sit up and winced; a pain shot all the way up her leg. Her right ankle was twisted at an odd angle and she could hardly bear to move it. Her parents were both at work, so it was just her and that _stupid fucking cat_ in the house. Gritting her teeth and grasping for the banister, she got to her feet and slowly hobbled over to the phone. She dialed the only number she could think of.

"Hello?"

"T.K.," she said pathetically, "I need your help."

"What?" he said, his voice suddenly taking on an urgent tone. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"I fell down," she whined. He laughed. That bastard _laughed_. "It's not funny."

"It is," he argued. She sighed. "Did you call just to tell me that?"

"No. I need you to take me to the emergency room! I think I broke my ankle."

"Really? Oh, okay, hold on. I'll be right over."

"Thank you."

Kari hung up and hopped over to a chair. She sat down and looked at her ankle. It looked swollen and purple and she thought she could see part of her bone poking against her skin. She pressed her finger against the small bump and inhaled sharply. It hurt _a lot_. She had been exaggerated when she told T.K. that she thought it was broken, but maybe it was.

T.K. showed up at her door ten minutes later and helped her into the backseat, where she stretched out her leg and whined about the pain as he drove to the hospital. They went into the emergency room (_he_ walked and _she_ hopped on her left foot because he wouldn't carry her) and waited. After a half hour, someone pushed Kari down into a wheelchair and wheeled her off to the x-ray room, which was on the third floor. They passed by Tai's old room —

_Kari sighs. She has read this magazine twice already and this chair is uncomfortable. She is hungry and thirsty and bored out of her mind. This is not how she wants to spend her Saturday night._

That's a cute outfit,_ her mother says, pointing to a page in the magazine she is reading. Kari fights the urge to roll her eyes. Is her mother really making small talk? _

_Kari is supposed to be sitting on a bus with her friends, on my way to her uncle's hotel. She is supposed to be enjoying the final month of her summer. Instead, she is sitting in the hospital with her comatose brother, making small talk with her mother._

_The monitor beeps loudly and she jumps in her seat. _

What the –?

_It doesn't stop beeping. It isn't the normal beeping, either. It is one continuous sound. _

_A flat line._

_The doctor rushes in, followed by a few nurses. Kari's mother is on her feet now, but Kari is still sitting in her chair._ _What's going on? Why are the machines making that sound? Doesn't that usually mean –?_

We have to ask you to leave,_ one of the nurses says to Kari's mother. But really, if anyone deserves to be here with Tai when he leaves this world, shouldn't it be the one person who brought him into it?_

No! What's wrong with my son?

Please. We can't work with you and your daughter in here.

Mom? What's happening?_ Kari asks, even though she knows. It would take an idiot to not understand this. Her mother shakes her head. There are tears streaming down her cheeks. Kari's father rushes in. The beeping is getting louder and louder. Soon, it's all Kari is aware of. Her brother is surrounded by doctors and nurses. Her father is trying to be calm. Her mother is trying to get answers. All she can hear is the beeping and the hospital staff, screaming out things like _patient is unresponsive_ or _his BP is dropping … sixty-five over palp!

_The next thing she knows, someone is taking hold of her arm and gently helping her out of her seat. T.K. is behind her, looking worried. Kari reluctantly gets to her feet and tries to communicate what just happened, but judging by the scene, she assumes he already knows._

_Kari looks at her brother, her hero. He took care of her and helped her whenever she had a problem. He stayed up with her when she had nightmares and couldn't sleep. The day he got his driver's license, he took her for a spin around town before going over to Sora's. And when she told him that she was dating T.K., he told her that he'd known all along that they'd get together and that he was happy she had found the same happiness he had._

_He was always there for her. Why can't she be there for him? _

_Why can't she help him, fix his problems, make everything all better?_

_She's sorry, Tai. She's so sorry that she failed you. _

_A nurse yells something and T.K. leads her out of the room. She fights him but he's too strong, and they end up in the hallway, along with her parents. She starts screaming and hitting T.K., only wanting to be beside her brother. _

_If he is dying, she deserves to be at his side. She deserves to hold his hand while he goes. He shouldn't be alone. She knows _she_ wouldn't want to be alone._

_Why won't T.K. let her go? She fights against him for what feels like forever; all the while her mother is sobbing and telling her to calm down, that she is not helping things. Kari doesn't care that she isn't helping things. She can't help Tai, so why does it matter if she can't help anything else?_

_Fuck helping things. Fuck this hospital. And fuck the idiot doctors who probably couldn't save her brother if they tried – which they probably aren't, because this fucking hospital is full of incompetent fucking fools and WHY ARE THEY TURNING OFF TAI'S MACHINES?_

_Finally, the doctor comes out of Tai's room and Kari knows what he's about to tell them. She stops struggling against T.K. and goes slack in his arms. He holds her close and whispers how sorry he is. His voice breaks but she doesn't care. She doesn't care that the doctors did everything they could. She doesn't care that Tai went peacefully. She doesn't care that Tai wouldn't have wanted to live his life as a vegetable and this is probably for the best anyway._

_Her brother is gone. She will never see him alive again. _

_And nothing else matters._

I need to see him,_ Kari whispers._

In a few minutes,_ the doctor says gently, _you can go in if you'd like.

_Her mother is shaking her head. _Kari, no … you –

I need to see him.

_An eternity later, the nurses come out of Tai's room and tell them that they can go in and say goodbye. Kari's mother sobs and shakes her head. Kari wonders if her mother realizes that this is the last time she will ever get to see her son. Kari wants to shake her, to scream at her, to make her go inside and have a proper goodbye, because Kari knows that she'll regret it later._

_Her father opts to stay with her mother. T.K. is there the whole time. She knows that he will come with her to say goodbye if she asks him, but she can't. This has to be between her and Tai._

_She takes a deep breath and goes back into Tai's room. How is this possible? Ten minutes ago she was annoyed that she had no new reading material to entertain herself with. And now she is an only child. It's amazing how quickly things can be put into perspective._

_Her eyes scan the room and finally come to rest on her brother. Even though he's only been gone for a few minutes, he already looks different. Or maybe he doesn't, and it's just the idea that his heart is no longer beating inside his chest that makes everything seem different._

_Kari remembers when she was eight and she went to a funeral for some uncle she had never met. It was an open casket and she'd nearly screamed when she saw the lifeless corpse. Ever since then, the thought of a dead body has sent a chill down her spine._

_But this is different, because it isn't just a dead body. This is Tai. And it makes her sad to think that anything about Tai would make her cry out in fear._

_The room is so quiet and there is a slight ringing in her ears, and she thinks she'd give anything in the world to hear those monitors beep again. _

_Is it wrong that she would give her own life so Tai could have his back?_

_Kari thinks about every fight they've ever had. She thinks about the way she used to purposely hog the bathroom, and the way Tai used to tease her when they were little._

_She thinks about the long drives they used to take, the ice creams he used to buy her, the soccer tricks he used to teach her. She thinks about two years ago, when she first found out that he knew Matt Ishida and begged him to get his autograph for her._

_It doesn't seem fair that Tai's life is over. It isn't right. Kari knows_ _that. Things like this shouldn't happen to people like Tai, people who deserve only wonderful things._

_Tai hadn't ever done a single thing wrong in his life. Why him? Why not someone else, someone Kari doesn't know or care about?_

_Really, Kari guesses the question is _why not her?

_She has never before believed in reincarnation, but she finds herself on her knees praying that there is such a thing, because it isn't right for Tai to not go on to another life. It isn't right for his soul to wander aimlessly, to do _whatever _it does when it leaves the body._

_But then she realizes that she is being silly. If God didn't answer her prayers about keeping Tai alive, why in the world would He answer them now?_

_Kari stands up again and although she knows it's sort of morbid, she kisses Tai's corpse on the forehead, feeling the coolness of his skin under her lips. And when she pulls away, she can see teardrops on his face, ones that can only be from her._

_She suddenly wishes that she had something to give him. _

_She wishes that she had her stuffed penguin, the one that used to be Tai's. She was five when he gave it to her, and sometimes, she still sleeps with it at night. _

_She wishes she could give it back, that she could put it in his bed with him now, just so he wouldn't be alone. She wishes he could take it with him to wherever he's going. It doesn't seem right for him to make the trip alone._

_She sighs, wondering if he can see her now. She wonders if he feels pain where he is._

I love you, Tai,_ she whispers, not sure but hoping that he can hear her._

_She thinks about Tai in his coma and knows that for the first time since this whole thing started, her brother is finally free. He is somewhere so amazing that he wouldn't come back to her if he had the chance._

_But she's too selfish to be happy for him._

……………………………………………………………


	4. Withdrawal

**Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon.**

**Chapter Four: Withdrawal  
**……………………………………………………………

Some days, Kari forgot. It was only for a moment – that precious moment between sleeping and waking – but she both loved and hated that moment. She could lie in bed with the pillow over her face and almost convince herself that when she finally got up, Tai would be in the kitchen eating breakfast or sprawled across the couch watching TV. Eventually, though, Kari had to get up. She would go downstairs, and Tai would not be in the kitchen or on the couch. He would not be in the shower or outside playing soccer or on the phone with Sora. He would be in the same place he had been for years – nowhere. It was amazing to her that even after all this time, she could still feel so surprised by this.

Some weekends, when she went home to Odaiba, she would hear her mother crying at night. Kari felt compelled to comfort her, but at the same time, she had never been able to gather up enough nerve to talk about it. Sometimes, she was outraged that not everyone in the world mourned her brother; other times, she forgot that even her parents were experiencing turmoil comparable to her own.

Sighing, she heaved herself out of bed and gingerly put weight on her ankle. The doctor had said there was no break, not even a sprain, but Kari still was not convinced. She carefully maneuvered around her small dorm room, through the infinite piles of dirty laundry, and made her way to the washroom to start the day. It was Wednesday, and Kari didn't have classes until two in the afternoon. Her only plan for the morning was an early lunch with T.K., who had a break in his schedule at ten-thirty. Glancing at her watch and noticing that she was running late, she grabbed her purse and rushed across campus.

She was not blessed with a natural grace, and with the added factor of her tender ankle, it was not surprising that she tripped over herself on her way down the stairs. She tumbled roughly down the remaining half of the flight and came to rest at the bottom.

"Whoa!" a voice cried from behind her. She could hear the footsteps of someone quickly descending the stairs, but could not tell from the voice if the person was an acquaintance or merely a kind stranger. "Are you okay?"

She stared up at the ceiling and swallowed hard, wondering if there was a proper, honest way to answer such a loaded question. "No," she finally admitted, her eyes closing against the truth. "I'm really not."

……………………………………………………………

"The ocean was beautiful," Mimi said to the stone. "I've never seen water so clear and blue. It reminded me of the colour of that dress you gave me for my eighth birthday. Remember that one?"

Sora never answered, and Mimi never expected her to. She knew what Sora would say, anyway. And besides, words weren't everything.

She twisted Sora's ring around her finger and shifted on her feet, feeling her heels sink into the muddy earth. It had rained that morning, and she was reluctant to take her usual seat in front of Sora's tombstone for fear of ruining her favourite skirt. Mimi always wore her nicest clothes when she visited her friend, though she wasn't sure why. Sora had always been the one girl whose presence never required makeup or even combed hair.

The idea of family represented a great deal to Mimi; it was a word loaded with meaning and feeling, with memories both positive and negative. It could be interpreted any number of ways, though she did not feel most of them were very adequate. She knew only three forms. Her mother and father were her family, because they had created her and given her life. Matt was her family, because he was her husband and would one day be the father of her children. And Sora was her family, because with every beat of her heart and every breath of air in her lungs, her soul screamed out for the girl. To Mimi, family was not necessarily a group of people with matching DNA. Family was a feeling; a warmth that spread outwards until her fingertips itched so fiercely that she had to reach out and touch them. It was a dependency, a vulnerability. And ultimately it was the knowledge that they would not fault her for possessing either of these things.

And so Mimi did not mind that others thought her actions foolish, that even Matt stared at her strangely when she returned home from the cemetery with dirt under her fingernails and grass stains on her best dress. Sora would not judge her – in fact, Sora would probably act in the same way, were their roles reversed – and that was all that she could care about.

"The service was really lovely. And Matt looked very handsome," added Mimi, almost as an afterthought. She glanced at the neighbouring grave and told Tai, "I wish you could've seen Kari. She looked so beautiful."

She lingered there for quite some time, shivering under her umbrella when the rain started up again. She talked until her throat was dry and her voice hoarse, and even then she continued on. The wind kept causing her umbrella to flip up awkwardly, until finally Mimi grew tired of struggling with it and put it away. The rain soaked her clothes and skin, ruining her hair and washing off the makeup she'd spent nearly thirty minutes working on.

She felt something brush lightly against the inside of her wrist, and for a fleeting moment she thought it was Sora's touch. She turned, startled, and saw Matt standing behind her in a dress shirt and pants, holding an umbrella large enough for the both of them to share. He slipped out of his jacket and placed it around her shivering shoulders.

"Pretty wet out here," he said conversationally, as if they did this everyday. She nodded softly, aware that he was trying, but unsure of his motive. It made her sad to realize she didn't trust his grief or value it as much as she did her own, but she could not fix this now. She turned back to face Sora and Tai, but allowed him to grasp her hand firmly in his own. He squeezed it and she squeezed back, Sora's ring digging into her finger sharply, a permanent reminder of her own pain. She took notice of his tie – a yellow and black one that was his nicest and favourite, one he saved for the most important occasions – and she almost felt guilty for wishing she could be somewhere else, in different company.

……………………………………………………………

T.K. glanced at his watch and gave Kari ten more minutes to make an appearance. Then, he resolved, he was leaving.

She arrived twenty-two minutes later with another guy, whom T.K. didn't recognize. Did she even realize she was late? Or had she forgotten all about their plans and shown up here on mere coincidence? Deciding it didn't matter either way, he grabbed his bag off the other chair – one he'd been saving for her – and took a route to the door that guaranteed she would spot him.

"T.K.! Hey, wait!"

He didn't wait, and when he felt her hand wrap around his bicep a moment later, he was actually surprised that she'd come after him. He was overcome with the reality of his own hopelessness: he'd spent his break waiting around for a girl he hadn't even expected to show up. It struck him harder than it ever had before, and unlike the numerous other times he'd been let down by her, this time he could not shrug it off quite as easily.

"I _did _wait," he told her. "I spent the last half hour waiting for you to show up, and you just casually strolled in and called after me as if I hadn't."

"I know," she said.

"But?" he said, because he knew it was coming. Kari could never admit to being wrong without giving an excuse, no matter how poor it was.

"_But_," she said, "I don't think my alarm clock went off this morning. Or maybe it did, and I just slept through it. But if I _did _sleep through it, it was only because I was up until four in the morning editing your paper for you last night."

"Yeah, and I was up just as late as you were, and yet I've made it to two classes already today," he said. "Plus, I didn't _ask _you to edit my paper, you offered to do it. And if you knew you were going to sleep in today because of it, you should have cancelled our plans."

"Come on," she said lightly. "You aren't seriously _this _mad because I'm a teeny bit late?"

"Yeah, actually, I am," he said.

She pulled up her sleeve and put her elbow in his face. "Look at this!" she whined. "I was rushing over here and I was so concerned about being late that I wiped out on the stairs and skinned my elbow. That's got to get me some points, right?"

"Does it hurt?" he asked.

"It stings like a bitch!"

"Good," he said, and before another lying word could pass through her stunned lips, he left her.

……………………………………………………………

_Good_. The word echoed in her head over and over, hurting her far worse than her fall down the stairs had. What had gotten into him? He was usually so caring, so attentive. Was he angry with her for being late? Or was it something else?

Could he have been angry because she showed up with another man? T.K. had never been the jealous type when they were together, but he had become increasingly protective, almost possessive, of her since their break up. She considered this for a moment and decided it wasn't the case. After all, he hadn't even asked her about Blake. It was possible he hadn't even noticed him.

"Are you in there somewhere?" Blake asked her in an accent she couldn't pinpoint. The more he spoke, the less certain she became.

"Sorry," she said. "I guess I zoned out for a second."

"I just asked how your head was feeling," he repeated. "It looked like you smacked it pretty hard when you fell earlier."

"It's fine," she told him. "Thanks."

Though she'd only known him for an hour, Kari liked Blake quite a bit. He was polite and soft-spoken, but very witty and articulate. He'd said he was twenty-one, but that didn't feel right to her; she couldn't decide if he seemed younger or older, though. He had a boyish smile, but the type of maturity she wasn't used to seeing in males her age. He wasn't exactly handsome, but he was far from unattractive. And he wasn't short, but he wasn't particularly tall, either.

He wasn't particularly _anything_, actually. He was completely unremarkable in every way; the kind of face one forgot about immediately after seeing. She might have walked by him every day and never taken notice until he'd helped her up from her fall this morning. What would it be like to be so unknown – to be able to walk through Odaiba without anyone staring at her, without anyone whispering about Tai? She was struck by this thought from the moment he'd started talking, and she found it such an admirable quality that she could almost forget about her disappointing encounter with T.K. earlier.

There was something very comforting in the idea of anonymity. She wanted to ask him if he'd ever done anything worth noticing in his whole life, but realized he might take it as the opposite of how she meant it. He had such a warm, easy way about him. They spoke for hours about anything and everything, and she felt so safe within their conversation that when he asked if she had any siblings, she told him the truth.

"I have a brother," she said, stumbling over the verb. She would never figure out which tense she was supposed to use. Saying she _had _a brother was probably more correct, but she didn't feel that Tai had stopped being her brother just because he'd died. After all, she certainly hadn't stopped being his sister. "But he died when I was seventeen."

"I'm sorry," Blake said, and she believed him. She had never told anyone that fact about herself before, but it didn't seem strange to tell him. "I can't imagine what that's like."

"Do you have any siblings?"

"A younger sister," he told her. "Elizabeth. She's fifteen."

"Are you close?"

He seemed to consider this for a moment, not because he wanted to be respectful but because he wanted to be accurate. "We've drifted since I moved here for school, I suppose," he said. "But we used to be very close, even when we were younger. She's terrific."

"She must miss you so much."

"Yeah," he agreed. "I miss her, too."

"Of course," Kari said. "But she misses you more."

His eyebrow went up in an interested, perhaps flirtatious, sort of way. "How do you mean?"

"I mean that the little sister always cares more," she explained. "You were there when she was born, and you've watched her grow, and you probably love her very much … but you know how to live without her. You had six years of life before she was there." She didn't know why she was saying this to Blake. Maybe it was true, or maybe it wasn't. There were some truths that one could only understand after a great misfortune in life, and perhaps this was one of them. "For her, there's nothing before you. There's nothing without you."

He stared her straight in the eye, and it was the first time someone really saw her in years. "That friend you were meeting," he said, "was that really just a friend? Or are you involved?"

"No," she said quickly. She was caught off guard – though not upset – by the abrupt change in topic. "God, no. We're just friends. We dated once but that was a whole other lifetime ago, and we both realized it was a mistake before it got too serious."

Had she really said that? And more importantly, had she meant it?

"Good," he said. "It's probably not my place to comment, but I saw the way he acted earlier and you didn't deserve that." She felt a sudden desire to defend T.K., to explain just how little she deserved after all the things she'd done to him, but she caught herself. "He just really doesn't seem right for you."

The words struck her in a way she had not expected; there was nobody more perfect for her than T.K., and surely anyone with a pulse would realize that. She felt a wave of desperation break over her and didn't understand where it was coming from. There was an overwhelming need for her to argue with Blake's statement, to prove him wrong. She imagined herself several years ago and could feel it all in an instant – the happiness, the hope, the security. To tell her that she _shouldn't _be with T.K. was ridiculous and so obviously incorrect. She had chosen to end things with him, yes, but not because she had _wanted _to. Sometimes, one had to do things out of necessity rather than desire. Losing Tai was an impossible grief, and losing T.K. would have pushed her so far over the edge that she would have never been able to get herself back. And so her actions, though not ideal, had been perfectly logical. If she were going to lose him (and her past had taught her to be certain that she would), then she wanted to at least lose him on her own terms.

……………………………………………………………


	5. Anger

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Chapter Five: Anger**

…

The next two weeks passed quickly for Kari. Exams were drawing nearer and she found that most of her time was spent reading and studying. When she did have spare time, she spent it with Blake, who was becoming a constant presence in her life. She could tell that he had romantic feelings for her, and though she did not return them, she didn't feel the need to tell him that. Truthfully, it felt nice to have someone pay that kind of attention to her, even if it wasn't T.K.

The thought of T.K. made her frown. They hadn't spoken since their argument and she wondered if she wasn't the only one feeling lonely. They had been in fights before, of course, but they'd never deliberately ignored each other like this. She wanted to talk to him, but more than that, she wanted to win this standoff and show him who was in charge. They weren't together because _she _didn't want to be, after all. She couldn't be more in control if she tried. Right?

She had a moment of self-doubt, and then felt her emotions turn on a dime. She _was _the one calling the shots. Screw T.K. for making her think otherwise. Screw him for acting like such an asshole the last time they'd talked and then ignoring her as if she'd been the one to do wrong.

Settling on anger and throwing out the rest, Kari marched to his dorm room and banged on the door until he answered. He looked surprised to see her.

"What?" he asked. Everything about him seemed changed.

"You have no right to be such a dick to me," she announced. "Apologize."

He seemed unable to tell if she was serious or not. Finally, he shook his head. "I'm not doing this anymore," he said softly, and began to close the door.

She stuck her foot out and blocked it. "Are you kidding me?" she demanded. "You've been ignoring me for two weeks because _–_ _why_? Because I was late meeting you for lunch?"

He stared at her with a blank expression. "There is something seriously wrong with you, Kari." He spoke slowly, with no emotion, and his apparent indifference stung her far worse than anything else.

"What did you say?" she demanded loudly. She wanted to cause a scene. She felt wildly out of control. If he was going to treat her this way then she wanted everyone in the whole building to hear it, to know how rude he was.

"You heard me," he said flatly. She looked at the hand he had on the door and watched as his knuckles turned white. She didn't understand how he could be so malicious and so unaffected at the same time.

"You know what –"

"Shut _up_," he said. She fell silent, shocked. T.K. never spoke to her like that. "I can't listen to it anymore." He turned away and turned back quickly, like he wanted desperately to swallow his words but couldn't. "I am ridiculously in love with you and you know it. You – you know it, and you use it to your advantage because you know that I'll never feel differently. That I _can't_. You know that I'm never going to stop loving you no matter what you do to me, and you don't give a shit. But I give up. I am done trying to save the girl who doesn't want to save herself."

His eyes never left hers as he shut the door slowly, softly. This time, she didn't make any attempt to stop him.

She walked back to her dorm room slowly, growing less and less sure of herself with each step. She couldn't understand T.K. – not just his words, but the emotion behind them. She didn't use him. She didn't take advantage of him. Did she?

When she reached the safety of her room, she locked the door and sat down in front of her dresser. She picked up her phone and dialed T.K.'s number. When he answered, he said nothing. She could barely even hear him breathing.

"I don't need to be saved," she said, staring hard at herself in the mirror.

There was a _click_ as the line went dead.

…

"Meems? Meems? Mimi? Hello?"

She could hear him. But she had headphones in, so she was hoping he would just assume she couldn't and give up. He grabbed her iPod to pause her music, hoping to talk to her, but he discovered that it was off. He looked at her, puzzled. "Couldn't hear me?"

She could tell that he expected a lie, maybe even wanted one. If she couldn't be decent enough to respond when he spoke to her, he probably hoped that she would at least be courteous enough to pretend.

"No," she said. She felt especially disconnected today, and she didn't care enough to spare his feelings. "I could hear you just fine."

He said nothing. He never said anything, and a part of her appreciated how hard he tried. Another part of her lost more respect for him each time he let her walk all over him like this. Every time he came home from work and asked what she felt like having for dinner, only to be told that she'd already eaten alone, he just nodded and prepared dinner for one. Every time he asked her if she wanted to go to a movie and she told him she'd gone to a matinee last week, he merely turned away and busied himself with something else. Why was he always so content to drop the issue?

"I'm running to the store. I'll probably grab a coffee on my way back. Do you want one?"

"No, thanks," she said.

He returned half an hour later, a coffee in either hand.

"What the hell is this?" she said, unjustifiably annoyed, when he placed one on the counter in front of her. "Did you not listen when I said I didn't want one?"

"I know what you said, but I was going there anyway. I figured if you changed your mind then you'd enjoy it. If you don't want it, well, don't drink it."

"I'm not a child, Matt. When I say I don't want something, it's because I don't want it. Stop wasting my breath and your money," she said loudly. Why had she raised her voice? Why did she feel so hostile? She knew, in the back of her mind, that he'd only wanted to please her. Maybe, on a different day, in a different time, she would have done the same for him.

He stared at her, confused and hurt. "What the hell is your problem?"

"My problem is that you don't listen to anything I say!"

"Oh, _I _don't listen? That's rich coming from you," he snapped, and the fact that he was right only made her angrier. She could feel the tension building up inside of him, all of the feelings he'd buried over the years, and it was about to come out in one huge argument. She wanted that desperately. She was always so angry, and he was never willing to engage.

"Fuck you," she said. She couldn't remember ever saying that to him before. He took a step away from her, visibly stung.

"Wow. Okay, Mimi." His voice was calmer, more even. He was going to back down, going to let her win. She couldn't let this happen again. She wanted to fight. She wanted to scream, to say all the things she had no right to say – all the things she would never be able to take back. She wanted to burn this – her last – bridge. She needed to. And she had no idea why.

"God, would you stop doing that?" she yelled. "Stop acting like a little bitch and say what you think! Stop swallowing it! Man up and say what you want to say!"

"What I WANT to say?" he cried, taking a step toward her again. He looked wild, and for a moment she felt afraid of him. "What I _want _to say is that I'm sorry, Mimi. I'm sorry that Sora died and you got stuck with me, because clearly it should have been the other way around. _That's_ what I think, what I want to say to you all the time! That's how you make me feel everyday! Does that make you feel better? Are you better now? Are you done being unbearable? Can I have my wife back?"

The coffee was in her hand before she even noticed, and in another second, she was hurling it at the wall. Hot liquid exploded out of the cup, splashing against the wall and staining the white throw rug.

She stormed into their bedroom and slammed the door behind her. She was too furious to breathe, but she wasn't even sure why. She paced the room, glancing around frantically as if searching for something else to throw or abuse. She grabbed a photo of Sora and herself. Without thinking, she ripped it in two, one girl on each half. She grabbed one half and tore it into pieces, then threw them against the wall. She wanted to set them on fire; she never wanted to look at that stupid face again. She stilled for a moment, put a shaky hand on her nightstand, and collected herself. After an eternity, she looked down to see her own smiling face, still intact, staring up at her. Sora's eternal grin lay in several pieces on the floor.

And Mimi realized then what anyone else could have told her years ago: she may have hated herself, and she may have taken it out on Matt, but she only really blamed one person. Sora.

…


	6. Progress

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Chapter Six: Progress**

…

A week later, in spite of her better judgment and against every ounce of pride she had, Kari went to see T.K. He looked annoyed when he found her at his door, but let her in anyway. He gestured wordlessly to a chair and she sat down, a small smile playing across her lips. Even when he was trying to be cold, he still had manners.

She swallowed hard; she had spent so much time thinking about whether or not he'd let her into his room that she had not considered what she'd say when she actually got inside. Her eyes wandered around his things, coming to rest on a picture he kept on his desk. When she reached out for it, he broke the silence.

"What do you see when you look at that picture?"

"What?"

"When you look at that picture," he said, "where do your eyes go to first?"

The answer seemed obvious to her. "I look at Tai and Sora first," she said. "Why? Don't you?"

"No, I don't. I look at you."

Her eyes drifted across the photo to where she stood, looking so young that she was almost unrecognizable. "Wow, I look different!" she said. "I haven't looked at myself in this picture in years."

"And yet you pick it up almost every time you're in here," he said pointedly. She looked at him, not understanding the point he was trying to make. "You can't keep going back to them, Kari. They're gone, and I miss them, but I'm not going to punish myself for how they ended up. They wouldn't have wanted that from us. They'd want us to move on, and you're the only one who's letting them down."

His words stung in a way that she couldn't describe, probably because it was the undeniable truth. Now matter how hard she tried to hang on to Tai and Sora, no matter how hard she tried to stay the same and not move on, she knew that she couldn't do it any longer. She had to let them go. She owed them that much. But how could she possibly move on?

"I don't think I can do that," she said.

"If you want to keep living in the past," he told her, "then go ahead and do it. But from now on, you'll be doing it alone." Without another word, he walked out of the room. She watched him go, and it was only after he had left her that she began to realize he had ever been hers to begin with. Kari had taken Tai's presence for granted so much that his death did not seem real, even now. It had been so sudden, so cruel, and she could not help but feel that it had been the universe's way of punishing her for being so cocky in the first place. Because of this, she had never treated T.K. as a guarantee. In her mind, he was here today, but he could just as easily be gone tomorrow. And since he could leave at any time, it simply did not make sense to maintain an attachment to him.

But if Tai had to die at nineteen, would she have preferred to have not known him? Would she wish to have been in a different family, to have a brother who wasn't Tai, or perhaps no brother at all? She could not imagine a childhood full of someone else's memories – memories of a different family, a family of which Tai had not been a member. So if she was grateful to have had Tai even for that short time, why was it different for the others? Her loved ones were not immortal. She could wake up one day and not have a mother or a best friend or both. If she could have known beforehand that Tai would die, she would have spent every second with him, committing everything he did – everything he was – to memory. Why was she pushing T.K. away for the same reason she would have only pulled her brother even closer?

Tai and Sora would never get to laugh or cry or kiss again. They would never feel the rain on their skin or see a bird soaring overhead. They would never again fly a kite, drive a car, or eat too much pizza. Their time was over; it had run out. But why had Kari spent so long feeling like she didn't deserve to do these things simply because _they_ were no longer able to? Why hadn't she realized it was her responsibility to do all of these things and more, and to do them with every fiber of her being? She was living life not just for herself, but for the two of them as well.

Maybe grief didn't end. Maybe she would always feel like this, at least a little bit. But it was there to remind her of all that she had lost, and that was okay. She would take all the pain in the world as long as she could keep the memories, too.

Maybe the day would never come when she could watch a soccer game and not hear her brother's cheers in the back of her mind, or when she could go into an ice cream shop and not immediately remember that Tai had always liked two scoops of bubblegum in a waffle cone best.

But if a hot summer day ever found Kari kicking a soccer ball around with T.K., or ordering bubblegum ice cream, and _not _thinking of Tai – well, that would be a whole new tragedy entirely.

Kari returned the picture to its spot on T.K.'s desk and leaned back in her chair. He would come back to his room eventually, and when he did, everything would be different.

…

"Tell me about Sora, Mimi."

Mimi didn't even know where to begin.

"Sora was my best friend. She was my childhood. She was my sister. Every memory that I have, she was part of. She was a part of _me_."

"And then she killed herself."

Mimi flinched at the therapist's words. She could feel Matt's eyes on her as he sat quietly beside her in the cold office.

"How does that make you feel, Mimi?"

She choked back a laugh. "How do you think that makes me feel?" she asked. Therapy was every bit as bad as it sounded, and this was exactly why she had avoided it for so long. But after the blowout she'd had with Matt, he had finally asked her to see someone, and she had agreed. "There were people dying all around us in that school, and for whatever reason, she came out alive. And then, yeah, as you said, she killed herself. She did a terrible, stupid, selfish thing, but she was my best friend and I am allowed to miss her. I'm allowed to hate her for leaving me. I'm allowed to hate myself for not being able to stop her. I'm allowed to feel whatever the hell I want, and I don't think Matt understands that."

"Would you like to respond to that?" the therapist asked, looking at her husband.

"I _do _understand that," he said. "I understand it a lot better than she seems to realize. Tai was my best friend, and he died too. Only he didn't have a choice the way Sora did, and frankly I think that is a much more tragic way to go."

Mimi looked at Matt, shocked. He had never admitted that to her before. She felt the need to defend Sora, but against what? She wasn't entirely sure that she disagreed with his statement.

Their therapist looked to her for a response. "The difference," she began to explain to them, "is that Tai's death doesn't leave questions that keep Matt up at night. Tai died because four psychopaths did something horrendous, and that's the end of the story. But Sora – I mean, what the hell could she have been thinking?" Mimi felt tears sting her eyes. "Why couldn't she have just talked to me about it? Did she stop to think about what this would do to the rest of us? Did she do it spontaneously, or was it a thought that she carried around for weeks, torturing her so much that she finally had to go through with it?"

"It's more than that," Matt said. "Those questions are haunting and I get that. But it's more than that." He looked away from Mimi. "She thinks she's dealing with this, but she isn't. And I'm scared for her."

"You're scared for her in what sense?"

"I'm scared of what this is doing to her. I'm scared that she's going to get so lost in this that she … does the same thing that Sora did. I know she needs to deal with this and get past it, but I'm afraid to force her because I'm terrified that I'm going to push her over the edge."

"I didn't know you felt like that," she whispered, shocked. For the first time in a long time, Mimi felt guilt and shame wash over her. Neither one could look at the other.

"How could you? It's not like we can talk about it. I know you're holding back," Matt said. "But I don't know _what _you're holding back. And selfishly, I've been too afraid to ask."

"Do you know what he's referring to?" the therapist asked her.

"I …" she began, but her voice died out. She wasn't quite sure that she knew how to verbalize this particular emotion. "Sora was more than just my best friend. It was as if she were an extension of my own body, my own mind. She knew me so well – better than I knew myself, really. And I had always thought that I knew her just as well. So how didn't I see this coming? We were so mad at each other that summer … I wasn't there for her … and if I had been, maybe she would still be here. I don't know how to live with that kind of guilt."

"You mentioned that you and Sora had a falling out," the therapist said, "but you also said that she phoned you before she killed herself."

"Yeah," Mimi said. "She called me the night before."

"Do you think it was a cry for help, or was she just calling to say goodbye to her best friend?"

Mimi had gone over that conversation so many times in her head, but it had never once occurred to her that Sora could have just been calling to say goodbye. Could it be possible that Sora _wasn't _silently begging for help, laying out hints that she desperately hoped Mimi would pick up on in time to stop her?

"I don't know," Mimi confessed.

"Do you think Sora would want you to feel like this?"

"No, probably not. But we'll never know for sure, will we? She's _dead_. She and Tai aren't just on vacation. They aren't coming back, and I feel like I'm the only person who realizes this."

"Why is that?"

"Because if Matt really, fully comprehended the fact that our best friends are dead, he wouldn't be this strong. He wouldn't be able to get out of bed every day."

Matt turned to her. "I get out of bed every day because I have you," he said. "I get out of bed every day because even though our good days have been few and far between lately, there's always the possibility that we will have another one. And when we do, I don't want to miss that."

"Our time is almost up for today. Is there anything you want to add before we end our session, Mimi?"

"I just feel like Sora is the only person who can make me feel better, but she's the reason that I'm so messed up in the first place. I feel lost without her. Who am I supposed to spend Saturdays with? Who do I to tell my dreams to every morning? Who can I go to movies with? Who do I vent to, or laugh at … who do I confide in?"

"I can think of one person," her therapist said, looking at Matt.

…


End file.
